She Had Somewhere To Go
by gimmegimmeerrything
Summary: "Running away is all she ever does, but she never expects him to catch her." Lydia & Stiles. Two people discovering each other after years of hurt and denial.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi. I was just having major Stydia feels after the finale, so I had to do this in order to cope with my emotions. Enjoy!**

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_"Leaving home in a sense involves a kind of second birth in which we give birth to ourselves." __- Robert Neelly Bellah_

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She was away from everything she had ever known.

The streets of Paris were milling with people filled with romantic notions and silly thoughts and the belief that life was magical. They were wholly unaware of the darkness and misery that surrounded them, not knowing that an outcast walked among them.

Paris was no Beacon Hills.

The bartender watched as the petite girl with flowing hair and bright green eyes plopped down on a stool and promptly ordered a glass of scotch.

"Vous ne ressemblez pas le genre de fille qui boit du scotch," he commented, pouring her the drink.

She raised her head up and looked him in the eyes. He was quite young, maybe in his late twenties, his dark hair and striking blue eyes complementing a rather handsome face.

Taking her drink and swirling it around, she replied, "I have no idea what you just said."

Once a bitch, always a bitch.

"I said," he began, his eyes twinkling, "you do not look like the type of girl who drinks scotch."

"You don't know anything about me," she growled, throwing the drink down her throat and shuddering at the burn.

He set another glass in front of her without waiting for a cue. "Bad day?"

"Bad decade."

He nodded as if he understood, and she almost burst out laughing at the thought that anyone here could understand what she was going through.

The clinking of glasses and soft voices filled the classy bar, everyone from young socialites to older businessmen enjoying the opportunity to wind down on a Friday night. She had always craved class and status, and now that she finally had it, she didn't want it anymore.

Her thoughts strayed to a small town and a boy she had once loved. She had thought that he could give her the world, and when he failed to do so, she ran.

It was what she was best at.

"I'll have the same as the lady, please."

She started at the familiar voice and whipped around to see another boy, a boy very different from the one who plagued her thoughts.

He was older, his features were more defined, and he looked more confident than she remembered. Had he always dressed this well? She eyed his tailored suit with a cautious eye, wondering if this wasn't his more handsome, better dressed twin.

"Lydia Martin."

He was looking at her now, and she almost cringed under his gaze. It had been so long since someone had really looked at her, and his scrutiny was making her extremely uncomfortable.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Her tone sounded much sharper than she'd expected it to. "Still stalking me? It's been five years. Get over yourself."

She heard the bartender chortling at her harsh words as he poured her another drink.

He smiled sadly, stroking his still full glass.

"I wish that I were here because of an unrequited crush," he answered after a long pause. "That would be so much easier."

She snorted, setting her drink down heavily. "Crush? You were obsessed with me." Clearly, she wasn't one for mincing words tonight.

He furrowed his eyebrows, staring at her calmly. "I'm not that guy anymore."

She glared at him, surprised to find that she was somewhat disappointed. If she were to go back to Beacon Hills, the one thing she would have bet on to stay the same was his ridiculous affection for her.

She was suddenly afraid to learn what else had changed.

"Then why are you here?" she asked, forcefully, willing him to get to the point.

He sighed and took a small sip of his scotch, looking straight ahead. She again felt a flash of surprise and shock at how much he had changed since she had last seen him. The younger version of him would have been praising her to the heavens and obeying her orders without a second thought. This man who sat next to her was taking his own sweet time and seemed to be purposely making her angry.

"Something has happened," he finally informed her, and she blinked.

"Something always happens in that damn town," she replied, turning away from him. "What's so different this time?"

She could feel his eyes beseeching her, but she refused to break away from her icy exterior. He could not just show up after five years and pull her back into the madness that she had tried so hard to escape. He had no right to do something like that, and she opened her mouth to let him know just how little he was welcome here, but he cut her off.

"It's Allison," he admitted. "She's...sick."

Her face remained impassive, but inside, she felt as if her organs were about to burst out of her body. She felt her heart clench painfully as she thought of the beautiful girl who had once been her best friend, her closest confidante. This was why she had left; so that she didn't have to see the people she loved get hurt over and over again.

She clasped her hands in her lap. "Wolf bite?" she asked fearfully, her voice small.

"Cancer."

He said it so matter-of-factly that she felt like crying. She somehow sensed that his wasn't something new to him, that he had already grieved and had accepted it. She, on the other hand, never knew that she could feel this awful.

Cancer. She had always been positive that her friends would die because of a wolf attack or a hunter or some other enigma that wasn't supposed to exist, but this was beyond her. Cancer. Something they couldn't fight or make plans against. They would have to sit at her bedside and watch her fade away, not able to do anything about it.

"Is it really bad?" She was proud of how her voice did not crack at all.

"The doctors say she has four months to live," he said, watching her closely for any sign of weakness. She didn't relent.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Thank you for telling me," she stated, standing up and straightening her dress. "Drinks on me," she added, throwing a couple of bills next to her drink.

"That's it?" For the first time, he sounded angry. "Allison is going to die, and that's all you have to say?" His voice shook from fury.

Her face betrayed no emotions as she looked him straight in the eye.

"Tell her good luck."

Then she was gone, leaving him to look after her in disbelief, wondering how such an emotionless creature even existed.

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**Okay, don't worry. Many of your questions will be answered as the story goes on, like why is Lydia in Paris or how did Stiles find her. And never fear, the snarky, sarcastic Stiles we all love will be back in the next chapter! :) I just feel like five years is enough time for him to really change...especially because of what he's been through in my story, all of which will be revealed in due time.**

**Also, please excuse my French (literally). I got that from Google Translate, so it's most likely not accurate. Please let me know if it isn't so I can work on it, haha.**

**Reviews would be greatly appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two is here! And thank you guys so much for your wonderful reviews! I did not expect this story to get such a great response. I love reading your reviews and replying to them. Anon review replies are at the bottom.**

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_"If you press me to say why I loved him, I can say no more than because he was he, and I was I." - Michel de Montaigne _

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Stiles was not a calm and collected person. He freaked out over the simplest problems and turned into a psychotic spaz at the mere thought of confrontation.

So when he was elected to find Lydia and tell her about Allison's condition, he had almost accidentally punched Scott in the face out of surprise.

"Dude!" Scott had exclaimed, ducking just in time.

"I can't do this. What makes you think I can do this?" Stiles wrung his hands and glared at his best friend. "You're out to get me. You all are!" He scowled at Derek, who was standing a few feet behind Scott.

Derek just grunted and left Stiles' room, mumbling about finding something to eat.

"Yeah, just leave, you coward!" Stiles yelled after him.

Scott rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, Stiles."

Stiles leaned forward and smacked Scott on the shoulder, muttering in annoyance when Scott didn't even flinch.

"Stupid werewolf."

Scott took a seat on Stiles' bed and crossed his arms, a determined look on his face.

"Lydia deserves to know," he said stubbornly, raising his eyebrows. "She's Allison's best friend."

"_Was_," Stiles clarified, staring down at Scott. "She _was _Allison's best friend, before she upped and left." He ran his hand through his hair frustratedly.

"And anyway," he continued, "why me? Why don't we send Jackson? Or one of her friends from high school? She would probably rather see _my dad _than me."

"Oh, come on, man, she wouldn't be mad at the sight of you..." Stiles scoffed at Scott's words.

"...she probably wouldn't even recognize you," his so-called best friend finished with a smirk.

"Not helping!" shouted Stiles, putting his face in his hands.

"Plus," said Scott, ignoring Stiles' actions, "Jackson and Lydia aren't exactly on the best terms right now, and none of her old friends from school are going to care enough."

Stiles sat on the bed next to Scott, wondering how he had gotten himself in this position. He hadn't seen Lydia since he was seventeen, and he doubted that she would be glad to run into him now. He knew she had left to get away from Beacon Hills and all of the misery it held, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to drag her back.

"How am I supposed to know where she is?" he asked suddenly, the thought occurring to him.

Scott swiftly took out his phone and showed Stiles a picture on Lydia's Facebook page, which showed her grinning widely in front of the Eiffel Tower. Stiles frowned, taking the phone from his friend.

"She added you on Facebook?" he groaned morosely, clicking frantically through pictures of Lydia in front of Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, and the Colosseum. "I didn't even know she had one. Maybe she blocked me?"

Scott elbowed Stiles and snatched his phone back. "Not really the point, is it?"

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows, then motioned for Scott to continue.

"According to her statuses, she's going to be in Paris for a month," Scott informed him. "So you have plenty of time to go there and convince her to come back.

"Please," Scott pleaded when Stiles didn't answer. "Allison needs her best friend."

Stiles looked at Scott then - really looked at him - and saw the weariness in his friend's face. His once playful demeanor had aged somehow, and the lines on his face were prominent. Stiles knew that Allison's illness had put Scott through the ringer. He had once spent an entire week in the hospital, refusing to go further than twenty feet away from her.

"Okay." He nodded at Scott, a small smile on his face. "For Allison."

_And for you_, he thought as Scott smiled thankfully at him.

Now he was sitting on his bed in a hotel room in Paris, and he had no idea what his next course of action would be. Lydia had no plans of coming back with him, and he would rather punch himself in the throat than go back to Scott and Allison without her.

"Damn it," he muttered, shooting up from the bed. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

He had only thought to go to that fancy schmancy bar because of Scott's assurance that she went there almost every night according to her statuses. He had no idea what her phone number was or where she was staying or anything about her, really. He was screwed, and he knew it.

Most of all, he was angry at Lydia for leaving when they all needed her the most, for taking off and exploring the world without them, for not caring enough about Allison to come and see her.

Did she think she was better than everyone else?

Stiles knew the answer to that: yes, yes, yes. He hadn't observed Lydia Martin for years and come away with the idea that she was a kind, caring soul who only thought about others. She was mean, self-centered, and her biting remarks could scare away the best of men.

Yet he was still in love with her, after all these years.

"I'm crazy," Stiles murmured to himself. "I'm a crazy son of a bitch who can't get anything done and who is going to disappoint his best friend. I'm stupid and useless and a motherfucking - "

His ramblings were interrupted by a brisk knock on the door. He started in surprise and picked up the Bible provided by the hotel on his way to open it, hoping it would be heavy enough to knock out any attackers. He knew he was being rather ridiculous, but no one had knowledge of where he was staying so this unexpected visitor made him suspicious.

Stiles swung the door open, Bible ready, only to see one Jackson Whittermore staring him down, his eyes blinking confusedly.

"I didn't know you were religious," he remarked, eyeing the book in his hands.

"I - I'm not," Stiles sputtered, all coherent thoughts leaving his brain almost immediately. "What are you doing here?" he asked as Jackson made his way into the room uninvited.

Jackson settled down on the queen bed and whipped out his phone. "I'm here to help you," he replied casually, scrolling through some page.

Stiles set the Bible back down on his nightstand and gaped at Jackson.

"No!" he exclaimed, crossing his arms. "Get out! I don't need your help." He really didn't feel like spending quality time with the guy he'd resented all through high school.

"Uh huh," said Jackson skeptically, still looking through his phone, "and how did things go when you talked to Lydia?"

Stiles said nothing, realizing the Jackson was right; he would have a much easier time getting to Lydia with some assistance. He wasn't sure how Lydia would take to seeing Jackson, though. He'd heard rumors that one of the reasons she had fled to Europe was because her heart was broken by Jackson.

"Like she would want to see you," he sneered, "after what you did to her."

Jackson snorted, finally meeting Stiles' eyes. "Right. Because I'm the big, bad guy who broke poor wittle Lydia's heart." He rolled his eyes. "You shouldn't believe everything you hear, Stilinski."

For once, Stiles was actually shocked into silence. He had assumed that Jackson had cruelly and suddenly broken up with Lydia, which was why he'd been pretty rude to Jackson since she left.

"What happened, then?" he asked curiously.

"None of your business," snapped Jackson, glaring at him. "I came here to help you find Lydia, not pour out my heart and soul."

"Did Scott send you?" Stiles made a mental note to kill Scott the next time he saw him.

"Allison, actually."

Oh. He couldn't really do anything to Allison.

"So," Jackson said abruptly, changing the subject, "how didit go with her? Did you spaz out like usual?" He laughed, remembering Stiles' many panic attacks.

"_No_." Stiles defended himself, offended by Jackson's mockery. "I was actually very calm."

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "What drugs were you on?"

"None!"

"Dude."

"I took some Adderall, but that's it, okay?"

Jackson stood up and moved toward the bathroom.

"Better rest up. We have a long day filled with tracking Lydia down tomorrow." He stopped, one hand on the bathroom doorknob. "And Stilinski?"

"Hmm?"

He gave Stiles a semblance of a smile. "Let's put aside our differences for now. For Lydia."

"For Lydia," Stiles answered, surprised by Jackson's civility. Maybe he had grown up.

"Oh, and I call dibs on the bed!" he said, closing the door behind him.

Stiles groaned, all friendly feelings quickly disappearing.

"I hate that guy."

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**Anon review replies:**

Elu - thank you so, so much! :)

Sara - Thank you! I'm glad you like the way I wrote Stiles and Lydia because I was nervous about writing them five years later. And I definitely will hit up your ask box sometimes. I never tire of talking about Stydia.

Brea - thanks! I'll try to update as often as possible, but school has started so the waits might be longer. thank you for reading!

savan7 - you weren't on anon, but you seem to have your private messaging turned off so I'll just talk to you here. and everything will be revealed soon, don't worry! Yeah, I love Allison, but her cancer is integral to this story :( I hope you keep reading!

Guest - Thank you, thank you, thank you! Well, I'm really looking forward to writing more! Keep reading :)

**Next update coming soon!**


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